Harbinger Of Glory

Leo, after his clearance, stayed down for a second trying to catch his breath, but before he could do so, hands were on him.

Scalvini grabbed the back of his shirt, muttering something that Leo wouldn’t have understood even without being short of breath or the language barrier.

Barella, on the other hand, slapped the top of his head as Acerbi pulled him upright.

"Good," Barella said. "Good," to which Leo nodded, still trying to catch his breath.

Then he looked at the clock, and like they had been for a while, they were still trailing.

A save like that meant nothing if Italy didn’t do something with it.

The next England attack ended with a corner which Scalvini rose to meet and headed it away, but it only reached Rice.

The Arsenal Man took one touch and sent it back toward the box, and this time the delivery stayed low.

Leo, tracking a runner toward the near post, spotted the ball coming and attacked it instead, ignoring the man.

His header cleared the moment’s danger, but then it went sideways, bouncing toward the touchline and immediately, Leo landed, he turned and went after it.

He could have left it, but he didn’t.

Kean, seeing this, rushed towards Leo from the centre circle.

Leo reached the ball first and looked like holding onto it, but then he saw Kean and slipped it inside before Rashford could close him down.

At this point, he was already out of breath and should have stopped, but Kean didn’t give him that option.

He, without looking, clipped the ball back into space for Leo right as Rashford looked to challenge him, and suddenly, Leo was back on the ball.

He looked ahead again and found England recovering their shape.

There wasn’t much space to do anything with, at least until Carlo on the opposite side, just behind the halfway line, raised one hand.

Leo saw him, and held on to the ball for another second, waiting for Carlo to clear another man, and when the latter did, he smashed it.

The ball travelled almost the entire width of the pitch as Carlo moved onto it, but the pass was slightly behind him.

He stretched to keep it in front of Walker, brought it under control and immediately accelerated right as Walker turned and suddenly the race was on again.

Pickford was already moving out from his goal, giving his defender cover as Carlo pushed the ball ahead.

Leo, somehow finding another gear, began to run again.

He started from deep, but now he was crossing the halfway line at full speed, chasing the attack he had just created.

His legs were carrying more than they had at the start of the game, and he ran through it, closing the gap between himself and the play.

He glanced out wide and called out to Carlo just as Walker got his shoulder across and shoved.

Carlo played it anyway, the pass coming loose in Leo’s direction.

At once, Rice came to cut it off, and Stones moved with Rice, both of them reading the pass only for Leo to take a step across the ball and let it go to Kean instead.

Still, Stones’s tackle arrived where Leo had been and caught him and sent him to the ground, but Leo pushed straight back up.

Job was not done.

He was vertical again before Stones had finished the follow-through, and the commentary caught it.

"Calderon straight back up."

Kean received the ball near the edge of the box and looked up.

There wasn’t enough room to play Leo into his feet, so he lifted the ball toward the crowded area between the penalty spot and the six-yard box.

It wasn’t quite a cross.

It was simply a ball into a space where someone had to win it, and Pickford came.

The England goalkeeper took two quick steps off his line and attacked the delivery with both hands ready, certain he was getting there first, but out of nowhere, Leo appeared with fresh ideas.

He had been outside the box seconds earlier, but now he was there.

He slipped between two defenders, reached the ball before Pickford could gather it, angling his chest into the delivery.

The touch took the ball down where Pickford had already committed.

He tried to adjust, but Leo was quicker.

Leo’s right foot came through the ball, forcing Pickford to react, but then Leo suddenly dragged the finish across his body instead, sending the goalkeeper the wrong way.

Then his left foot met the ball into the empty net.

There was no power behind it.

He simply guided it toward the empty net before rolling onto the grass, the power of the effort collapsing him onto the ground as the Meazza exploded.

"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH! THAT’S BRILLIANT. THAT’S MAJESTICAL!

ITALY HAVE EQUALISED!"

The commentator’s voice disappeared beneath the noise before returning even louder.

"LEO CALDERON! ONE-ONE! THE GIUSEPPE MEAZZA HAS LOST ITS MIND! COOL AS ICE. LEO CALDERON, LEVEL AT LAST!"

Leo kicked right off the grass and dropped into a slide before he had even decided where he was going, skidding across the grass with both arms spread and his mouth wide open.

The sound that came out of him was raw.

Seventy-six minutes of chasing a game that had never quite gone their way, and now it was level.

Kean reached him first and grabbed him by the arm, hauling him halfway back to his feet.

"First time!" Kean shouted, laughing.

"Next time, just shoot first time!"

Leo was still trying to breathe.

"I wanted a better look!"

Before Kean could speak, another body crashed into him, then another.

When he finally managed to pull himself free, he looked across the pitch toward the executive boxes.

He searched for a few seconds.

Then he found what he was looking for, or at least, he thought he had.

He pointed in that direction, smiled and blew a kiss.

In the box, Sienna immediately started laughing as Vittoria turned toward her.

"What?"

"He’s looking at the wrong side."

Vittoria followed her gaze, and at that, a wry smile appeared on her face.

She closed her eyes for a second and then looked back at the pitch.

"It’s the thought that counts."

Though she appeared at ease, her hands remained tightly clenched in her lap because to Vittoria, this was more of a first impression for her parents, and it seemed her boyfriend had come in clutch.

Aldo noticed all this.

He looked at the pitch, then back at his daughter before shaking his head.

"My daughter is gone," he said quietly, but Vittoria heard it.

"Not now, Dad."

He smiled.

"Right."

Down on the touchline, Southgate was already calling his players toward him.

"Ten minutes!" he shouted.

"Maybe more. Stay in the game!"

He pointed toward the centre circle.

"Keep moving. Don’t give them anything cheap."

England’s players listened as they walked back into position, while the Italian players were still trying to settle their excitement.

The referee stood over the ball and waited for everyone to take their places as the noise around the stadium refused to settle.

"One-one at the Giuseppe Meazza," the commentator said, raising his voice above it. "Ten minutes remaining in normal time, and surely more to come."

The co-commentator laughed under his breath.

"After everything we’ve seen tonight, I wouldn’t dare predict what happens next."